Someone posted a hate message for my Irish & Celtic Music Podcast. It struck a sensitive chord with me.
Notes:
- “Old Dun Cow” by Brobdingnagian Bards from Brobdingnagian Fairy Tales
- Why Trad Nazis suck!
- Irish & Celtic Music Podcast
- Upcoming Show
- “When You're Evil” by Voltaire from The Devil's Bris
Upcoming Shows:
June 18, 2006, Father's Day Solo Show and Autoharp Tutorial
Things Celtic @ 3-4 PM
1806 W. 35th Street
Austin, TX 78703
Bring an autoharp for the tutorial.
Friday, June 30, 2006
Elysium Goth Club
705 Red River
Austin, TX 78705
512.478.2979
10 pm (Brobdingnagian Bards), 11pm (the Machine in the Garden), 12am (Voltaire)
Cover: TBA (there will be one, I don't know how much)
Age: Must be 21 or older to attend.
Old Dun Cow Lyrics:
words and music traditional
Some friends and I in a public house
Was playing a game of chance one night
When into the pub a fireman ran
His face all a chalky white.
“What's up”, says Brown, “Have you seen a ghost,
Or have you seen your Aunt Mariah?”
“Me Aunt Mariah be buggered!”, says he,
“The bleedin' pub's on fire!”
And there was Brown upside down
Lappin” up the whiskey on the floor.
“Booze, booze!” The firemen cried
As they came knockin' on the door (clap clap)
Oh don't let 'em in till it's all drunk up
And somebody shouted MacIntyre! MACINTYRE!
And we all got blue-blind paralytic drunk
When the Old Dun Cow caught fire.
“Oh well,” says Brown, “What a bit of luck.
Everybody follow me.
And it's down to the cellar
If the fire's not there
Then we'll have a grand old spree.”
So we went on down after good old Brown
The booze we could not miss
And we hadn't been there ten minutes or more
Till we were quite pissed.
Then, Smith walked over to the port wine tub
And gave it just a few hard knocks (clap clap)
Started takin' off his pantaloons
Likewise his shoes and socks.
“Hold on, ” says Brown, “that ain't allowed
Ya cannot do that thing here.
Don't go washin' trousers in the port wine tub
When we got Guinness beer.”
Then there came from the old back door
The Vicar of the local church.
And when he saw our drunken ways,
He began to scream and curse.
“Ah, you drunken sods! You heathen clods!
You've taken to a drunken spree!
You drank up all the Benedictine wine
And you didn't save a drop for me!”
And then there came a mighty crash
Half the bloody roof caved in.
We were almost drowned in the firemen's hose
But still we were gonna stay.
So we got some tacks and some old wet sacks
And we nailed ourselves inside
And we sat drinking the finest Rum
Till we were bleary-eyed.
Later that night, when the fire was out
We came up from the cellar below.
Our pub was burned. Our booze was drunk.
Our heads was hanging low.
“Oh look”, says Brown with a look quite queer.
Seems something raised his ire.
“Now we gotta get down to Murphy's Pub,
It closes on the hour!”
Chords: KEY Dm
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